Darkened
by phantom-jedi1
Summary: A broken young man from the future. A shattered man from the past. Together, they learn how to heal. PostKay, no slash.


_Present day_

Jacob stared blankly at the ceiling of his room, numb. She had left him. He knew it was inevitable: who would want to date a boy who had been abused for much of his young life? He had tried so hard to keep his past a secret, but the gossip mill at his high school somehow managed to find out. As soon as it became common knowledge that Jacob Ells had been physically and sexually abused by his stepfather, he became the leper of their little community. The few friends he had made now wanted nothing to do with him. He could live without friends: that had never been an issue. The fact that they had essentially betrayed him didn't hurt as much as one might expect.

It was her betrayal that hurt beyond belief. He had thought, truly thought, that Emily was the one for him. The first girl he had ever noticed, ever loved. She had said that she loved him even when she heard the vicious rumors. It wasn't until she learned that the rumors were not rumors but the truth that she abandoned him. Lying in his silent room, Jacob could still hear their last conversation.

Emily smiled dreamily at him, nestled against his arm. "So what are these rumors I keep hearing about you? I bet that horrid Matt started them. He's jealous of you, you know. They aren't true."  
He was silent.  
"They _aren't_ true, are they?"  
He couldn't bring himself to answer, knowing full well what her reaction must be.  
She turned to look him full in the face. The look that she found there confirmed her fears.  
"No," she breathed. "You…It can't…" Suddenly she flung herself away from him. "Pervert!" she hissed.  
Jacob was frozen, unable to move, to speak.  
"I can't believe…Get away from me, you horrible…I hate you!" she screamed at him before turning and running away.

Anguish filled him once again, remembering. He was essentially an outcast now, hated by the female population, mercilessly tormented by the guys. His life had become living hell in a moment. A handful of words had destroyed his life. Even the teachers avoided him, evidently sickened by his past. His mother had initially tried to get past the fact that her husband had done this, but was too blinded by her misplaced love and blamed the boy for what had happened. Jacob had been completely on his own since the fifth grade when the abuse was revealed. He had changed from a bright, loving boy to a dark and distrustful person. He had allowed himself to hope things would change for the better when he had switched schools. Even that feeble hope had left him now, shattered by the fact that things would never change. He would always be blamed for what had happened to him. Comfort was not to be his.

Despised by his peers, rejected by the one he loved and blamed for it all by the one person who should have comforted him, he found refuge in only one place.

Slowly, Jacob got up. There was only one thing that made his life bearable now. The drama department had announced the year's production just yesterday. He mechanically dug the libretto out of his bag. The score of "Phantom of the Opera" stared up at him. He had wanted to be in this production for as long as he could remember, drawn to the mysterious, haunted Phantom. He felt a strange sort of kinship with the tormented genius these days. He knew what it was like to be hated for that which he had no control over and to lose the one he loved over it. But he shared a deeper bond than mutual pain and loss.

He had the gift of music.

_Paris, 1881_

Erik knelt alone in the darkened cave, seemingly indifferent to the destruction that surrounded him. Broken mirrors, smashed candelabras, and torn bits of a musical score bore silent witness to his rage and pain. Christine had been gone only a few short hours, but that was too long for him.

Far too long. The pain and shock dragged him down, rendering him unable to move, to speak, to sing. Memories flooded his aching mind, further shattered his broken heart. He knelt there for hours, frozen, unmoving save for the tears that fell from his reddened eyes.

Nadir found him there. Roughly, he forced the one-time phantom to get up. Erik moved slowly, listlessly, allowing himself to be manipulated like a puppet. A deep unease clutched at Nadir's heart as he saw the state of his friend. He forced Erik to take some nourishment before helping him to his bed. Erik made no protest, which worried Nadir more than any outburst he might have made. With a heavy heart, he left the underground house.

The days fell into a pattern. Once a day Nadir came, forced some food on him and tried to draw him out. Erik still made no response, too deadened with pain to notice or care. Despite Nadir's care, he grew gaunter than ever, truly beginning to look like a skeleton. Christine's betrayal had crushed his spirit finally, the way nothing else could have. He had lost the will to live. While he still would get up and sit before his organ at times, no music came from his fingers.

The attacks came more frequently now, leaving him weaker than ever. Nadir knew his friend was dying from a broken heart, both literally and figuratively. He could only watch helplessly as Erik faded away before his eyes. He prayed to Allah for a miracle, but it seemed less and less likely to occur with each passing day…

_Present Day_

Late that night, Jacob padded silently down to the piano in the basement of the house. He flipped to the end of the musical, to the part where the Phantom makes the fateful choice. After fingering a few chords, he began to sing, tentatively at first. He knew he had a decent voice, but he sincerely doubted his ability to get the part. Auditions were notoriously difficult at his large high school.

As he came to the very last section, his voice began unconsciously to strengthen, gaining beauty and power. His eyes closed as he slipped gently into a secret world, visited only by a rare few. For an effervescent moment, he was no longer Jacob Ells, but the heartbroken Phantom, crying his agony to the world through song. The last line came out more as a cry of despair than a true song.

"It's over now, the music of the night!"

The last notes hung in the air for a long moment before the young man began to weep, his own pain and loss overcoming him at last. Through his tears, he cried out "Why can't I find someone who will understand instead of judge? Why?"

There was no visible response to his inarticulate plea. Bitterly lost, he cried for what seemed to be an eternity before succumbing to his own exhaustion.

Though he did not know it, his cry and his tears did not go unnoticed. Someone did feel his pain, and took compassion on him. That Someone decided something needed to be done. And that night, the rules of the universe were bent…

_Paris, 1881._

Jacob woke slowly, feeling stiff and painful from his night spent sleeping on a piano. He stretched painful joints warily, blearily looking around him. What he saw surprised him so much that he nearly fell off of his bench. Even though most of the contents of this room had been destroyed, he could tell it had once been a beautiful place. More immediately apparent was the fact that it was certainly not his basement.

He walked around the room in disbelief. Something in the back of his mind nagged at him, giving him an odd sense of déjà vu. He pushed the nearest door open, the sight meeting his eyes not what he had expected in the least.

Before him stretched a vast, dark body of water, a small boat bobbing gently at its moorings. Turning, he could see other doorways set into the back of what appeared to be a natural cave. Stepping hesitantly, he crossed the grotto and stood before one of the doors. Unsure, but beginning to realize where he was, he opened it. The first thing he noticed was a beautiful church organ spanning one entire wall. The pipes stretched to the ceiling in places, their reflective black surface gleaming in the faint light. It was a moment before he noticed the figure hunched over the organ, fingers resting soundlessly upon the keys. And then it struck him whose house he was in, who it was who sat at the organ.

It was the Phantom of the Opera.

Erik heard footsteps behind him, but did not turn, unwilling to face Nadir yet again. Why couldn't the man understand that he wanted to be left alone now? The startled intake of breath from the person invading his sanctuary made him realize that this could not possibly be Nadir. Slowly, he swung around to glare at the intruder. His angry gaze fell upon a young man in outlandish clothes who appeared to be not much more than a boy. The boy seemed shocked to find him here, but no more shocked than Erik himself. How had someone breached his house's defenses without him knowing? He could only stare.

Jacob recovered first. "Who are you?" he asked, though he was fairly certain of the answer.

The masked man rose from his seat at the organ. "I could very well ask the same of you, young man. What are you doing here?" His voice was horse from disuse, yet Jacob could sense the beauty in it. And the pain.

"My name is Jacob," he began, a little unnerved by the controlled anger in the gaze fixed upon him. "I don't know how I got here. I fell asleep at the piano after singing the end of Act 2 and when I woke up…" he gestured helplessly.

The man nodded slowly. "That would explain why I did not hear your approach." He fell silent for a long moment. "My name is Erik."

Jacob started. "You're the Phantom?" sprang the words before he could stop himself. He looked down at his feet, embarrassed, somehow knowing yet disbelieving.

Erik laughed bitterly. "Yes. Some have called me that." He lapsed into silence once more, a silence neither seemed willing to break. Jacob was stunned by this simple fact. Unbidden, his tearful cry from the night before came to his mind.

_Someone who will understand…  
_

_ A/N- Worthwhile plot or no? Your feedback is needed.  
_


End file.
